The Nevada courthouse waits anxiously. Jarret Stoll's hearing was supposed to have started over an hour ago. The DA waits impatiently. The judge has dozed off. Suddenly, car tires can be heard loudly screeching outside, along with the roar of a Hemi V-8 engine. The courtroom comes to life. Both courtroom doors are thrown open violently and Jarret Stoll struts in. He power walks up the aisle, and hops over the divider. He slides into his chair, leans back, and props his feet up on the table.
"What up chumps?" Stoll mutters as he lights up a cigarette.
The judge clears his throat and tries to compose himself. He has never seen such rebellious behavior. Such swagger. Such cool.
The sorry-ass DA quips up and tells Stoll there is no smoking in the courthouse and for him to take off his sunglasses. Stoll whips off his sunglasses revealing he is wearing another set of sunglasses underneath them. The judge audibly gets an erection. Stoll elbows the DA in the head without leaving his seat.
Once more, the judge tries to compose himself. "Now Mr. Stoll, I've been told you were apprehended for having a large amount of an illegal substance on you and it should be clear how serious th-"
He stops suddenly as beautiful blonde woman strides into the courtroom.
"Baaaaaabe," she groans. "How much longer is this going to be? You promised me we were going to see Steve Aoki at Mandalay Bay."
"This shit won't take long," Stoll tells her.
They loudly make out. The judge tries to not salivate. The beautiful blonde woman turns to leave.
"Love you," she whispers.
"Whatever," says Stoll.
Stoll's attorneys light him a new cigarette and pour him a highball. The DA has already left, sobbing. The audience in the courtroom applauds. The judge wonders if this is real life, or a dream he can only hope of never waking from as this encompasses all he wishes reality truly was. Stoll raises two fingers and the crowd stops applauding immediately.
The judge looks back down at the summary sheet in front of him. "Y-you were at the Wet Republic club and-"
Jarret Stoll leans back even further in his chair and stretches. His American Eagle v-neck shirt slides up, revealing his perfect abs.
"Holy fuck," blurts the judge.
"Yeah," says Stoll.
"Uh, and, um, well, you had a large amount of cocaine and MDMA on you upon entering, and-"
"I'm gonna need to get that shit back, by the way."
"Of course. Of course." The judge can barely keep it together. "Well, young man, you should be more careful in the future."
Stoll loudly groans impatiently. Dean Lombardi sits behind him, silently crying.
"God damn, you are one cool motherfucker," the judge whispers. He has been doodling little hearts all over his papers with 'Jarret Stoll' written in all of them. "How about 32 hours of community service and we call it a day?"
"I already did that," Stoll replies. He gets to his feet, adjusts his boardshorts, puts his cigarette out on the floor, and leaves.
The Hemi engine is heard roaring to life again, along with the peeling out of tires. The rest of the courtroom cannot stop cheering. The judge feels a sense of gratitude to the god-man known as Jarret. He high fives the bailiff.
"Best fucking day of my life, man," the judge tells him.